


Here There Be Ghosts

by MsBluebell



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Character POV, Dehumanization, Dimitri Is His Own Warning, Dimitri is a Disaster, Dimitri thinks all his friends are dead, F/M, Female My Unit | Byleth, Feral Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Introspection, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Musophobia, Regret, Self-Hatred, Someone Help Dimitri, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 15:31:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20392000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsBluebell/pseuds/MsBluebell
Summary: He didn't come here to keep a promise. Dimitri was dead, and beasts have no promises to keep. Still, it would be nice if the ghosts haunting him remembered that.Or, Dimitri's POV of the reunion scene.





	Here There Be Ghosts

Rats are evil pests, it’s a truth the beast has known since he was a child. They nibble on flesh and scratch at the skin, digging anywhere they think food may be. Dimitri always hated them, whether they were chewing through the wooden shelves in the kitchens, leaving the maids to scream in his ears while trying to get rid of them, or they were gnawing at corpses on the battlefield, their blood soaked teeth picking apart small bits of flesh one by one. He used to flinch at the sight of them, something that worsened after Duscar, when it was just he and hundreds of bodies across blood spattered cobblestones and burnt houses. Ravens and rats feasting on bodies were his only companions for hours.

The cathedral was crawling with rats now. He could smell them, hear them scurrying everywhere, slinking and crawling and munching in the dark. They’ve built a nest here, in the place his younger, weaker, self once felt most at home, where precious long since abandoned memories were made. Dimitri was gone, lost to time somewhere in the harsh winter woods. And it’s been years since rats made him flinch.

His single eye studied the dilapidated stone, the falling towers, all set in ruin. A some point, somehow, he’s ended up here, in the tower Dimitri had made so many promises in so long ago. Somehow the beast has kept the promise that the boy no longer could, on this day of all days. The beast gave a bitter laugh. If he believed in fate…

It had to be fate, because he could not allow himself the indulgence of being here, on this day, when Dimitri had promised they’d meet again, when he promised  _ her _ ... 

The child he used to be would have despaired at the state of the tower, but he feels nothing looking at it now. The Goddess Tower was once the center of his dreams, the place he could honestly say he was happiest. This was were he’d almost...this was where Dimitri made what at the time seemed like one of the most important promises of his life, tucked away in his heart next to vengeance, seated lovingly next to uniting the people of Duscar and Faerghus. The promise to meet his friends again in this very spot, five years to the day.

Friends he hadn’t seen for all these years.

Some of whom were gone before the first year had passed.

The beast shook his head, banishing the thoughts. Those were Dimitri’s friends, not his, and Dimitri was long gone. There was no point to emotions anyway, despair wouldn’t bring back the things that were lost. Tears were wasted on the fallen. All that’s left is to avenge them. It’s a lesson the dead taught him well. 

His hand tightened around his lance, not too tight, because even steel broke beneath his touch. He can’t afford to let his only weapon break, not until he can find another after he finished off the vermin infecting this place. If there are any left, that is, it’s hard to tell, he lost count of how many he’s rid this world of since he’d arrived. He slumped against a wall, body heavy and sore, sliding to the ground. His weapon clanked against the wall, a loud noise, it would draw the attention of any rats left behind. He’d wait for them, just this once. Just this once...

‘ _ Waiting is a waste of time _ ,’ Glenn’s voice plays in his ear, his pale face appearing suddenly, without warning. Milky glass eyes watch him, just as lightless and faded as Dimitri remembers from all those years ago. Some finer details of his face have blurred with the passing years, but the splotches of blood and the eyes will always remain. ‘ _ You should have avenged us by now. _ ’

“I know,” he answered, voice rough and course, no longer used to speaking. His body slumps, curled in on itself, too heavy to lift for now. His whole body is sore. There’s no time for rest, though, he has to get up. He tried to stand, but his limbs refused to move. He should be walking, not resting. Rest is for men, not a beast. And Glenn was right, he should weed out the rats himself. Waiting did no good. Dimitri had waited patiently for  _ years _ and all it did was make things fall apart. Waiting cost him everything.

_ ‘Sentiment _ ,’ his father clicked his tongue. He stands, stern and strong, blood streaked hair and half decapitated head hanging loosely from his neck. ‘ _ It’s held you back. Now look at you, can’t even stand up after clearing a mere rats’ nest. _ ’

Dimitri’s head tipped, a drop of blood falling from his cheek onto his leg, “I’m sorry.”

‘ _ Don’t be sorry, be better, _ ’ his father scolded. The voice a whisper in his ear, because he can’t remember what his father’s voice had sounded like before.

He tries to stand, he truly does, but every part of him is weighed down. His very bones burned with the effort, and he slumped against himself, a new failure to add to his ever growing list. Five years, five years the dead had made their desires clear, and five years he’s kept them waiting. Now he can’t even stand.

‘ _ You don’t have time to rest _ .’ His step-mother appeared, her face a fog, features long faded to time. Her presence is a mercy compared to his father, or Glenn’s, because he never saw her body. She won’t appear to him as a corpse, only as a ghost, living mist in the vague shape of a woman with long brown hair and pale slender hands. ‘ _ Sleep is a gift to men. You are not a man _ .’

His head lolled, neck growing weak from strain. It’s hard to move, and he wishes the dead would just leave him alone, just for a  _ moment _ . He hasn’t slept for some time, he’s trained himself not to since long ago, but even then he needs to close his eyes and pretend for a while. It’s a luxury he shouldn’t be allowed, one he certainly doesn’t deserve, but he hasn’t found a way to go on without it yet. It sickens him, how weak he is, to long for something that was a gift to men while he was a mere beast. He’s spoiled. Dimitri’s body had been spoiled on food and rest and undeserved luxuries, and this beast had yet to fully rectify those mistakes.

It’s selfish of him to rest here. There’s an aching bloom in his heart, something that feels all too close to comfort. He hissed, snuffing out the warmth building there. Comfort is one of those selfish luxuries a creature such as he doesn’t deserve. He shouldn’t have allowed himself to come here, to rest  _ here _ . It’s further proof of the weakness that has been holding him back.

The dead would never find peace if he kept doing this.

Footsteps echoed through the space, the dull sounds bouncing off the walls, filling the otherwise empty air. A rat, no doubt. He doesn’t bother to move yet. The rat will find its brethren soon enough, and it will follow their blood trail right into his lair.

His lair, as if he had the right to call such a place his. 

Such arrogance.

The footfalls get louder, the click of heels playing in his ear, a song all their own, as the rat drew nearer.  _ Click, click, click _ , up the stairs they came, one slow step at a time. Almost here, he just had to wait.

‘ _ Waiting destroyed you _ ,’ Glenn reminded. ‘ _ Never wait for anything. Find them, hunt them, don’t give them the chance to destroy anything else _ .’

He would. If his body didn’t feel so heavy he would charge down the stairs and slaughter them now, corner them in the narrow archway and stretch out his long weapon so they couldn’t escape. But his bones refused to move, they burned with every breath, every movement. So he waited, because that’s all he can do.

The footfalls reached the top of the stairs before stopping abruptly.

A long silence shrouded the room, falling over the two of them with a weight he couldn’t understand. Perhaps it was shock? The rat had found its predator and was frozen in fear. Or perhaps outrage simply drowned out their ability to speak, move, do anything. Whatever the reason, they haven’t moved. Or maybe he hadn’t heard them move? An assassin? Sent by the empire to creep silently towards him and take his life while his eyes are closed? It wouldn’t be the first time, though this one was disgustingly sloppy if stealth was their intended goal.

He forced his head to move, groaning from the effort as his body protested the movement. Weak, so unacceptably weak. The dead watched him, contempt burning from their misty eyes, waiting for him to  _ move  _ and prove that their hopes for salvation weren’t wasted on this pathetic runt of a beast, only to find themselves disappointed. 

Finally, his head lifted, and his eyes met…

...No…

No, not her.

All at once the beast’s heart clenched within his chest, an old pain he thought long buried raging colder and stronger than the worst of blizzards. The chill of it crept through his veins, stabbing the tender flesh of his heart with its sharp spikes. 

This…

Not this. 

Not her.

Not Byleth.

It seemed too cruel that this should be happening  _ now _ . He hadn’t thought of her, hasn’t allowed himself to think of her, in ages. But seeing her here, where he– Where  _ Dimitri _ had...no. He could not, would not, allow himself to think of such things here, not when she was around…

Light washed over her features as she stepped forward, drawing closer, and the memory of her is somehow clearer than he’d allowed himself to remember. It must be an illusion, he thinks. Had she ever been this beautiful? Or was his mind filling in the blanks with something more perfect than she truly was?

It’s another sick joke from the goddess, another jab at him. He almost wants to laugh, the way he did when he saw his step-sister under the Flame Emperor’s mask, because it was just so funny. Life was just  _ so  _ funny, and he was always the punchline. And now five years of dedicating himself to a cause, to avenging the dead, still hadn’t been enough to stop the torment of the past. He should have  _ known  _ that she’d join them someday, become one of the faces that tormented him for his failure.

And why wouldn’t she? Hadn’t he failed her more than anyone?

All those years of training, all that time spent learning, honing his skills to be in peak condition, and it was all wasted. He’d wasted her time, wasted hours of tutoring and lecturing. She’d invested in him, chose his house to teach and train, and he’d let her down with his failures. He hadn’t been strong enough, hadn’t been fast enough, hadn’t been  _ good _ enough to stop Edelgard, to stop the war, to avenge the dead, to  _ save her _ .

He remembers a promise Dimitri made to himself, so long ago, in this very tower. It was a silent vow he made while he watched her under the stars, their glow cloaking her with their shining light, he was going to protect her. Dimitri had fancied himself in love back then, puppy love he’d justified to himself, because he  _ couldn’t _ fall in love with his teacher, it wasn’t appropriate no matter how close their age. He’d graduate soon, and move on, but he’d always remember her fondly as a friend and ally and he’d  _ protect _ her.

He was going to protect the entire class. When he was king they would never want for anything, not any of them, and no one would ever hurt them the way his knights and his family had during that awful day at Duscar. It didn’t matter to him where they went, or what they did, they were under his protection, and so long was they were in Faerghus no one could harm them without bringing down the wrath of the king himself. She’d been hurt enough, they’d all been hurt enough. 

Dimitri had sworn he would fight anyone she’d asked, kill anyone she needed, if that’s what it took to ease her heart. He would keep her safe, even if she never set foot in Faerghus, she’d always have his aid.

Oh, and how well that had turned out.

Dimitri was a damned fool to the end. He could have had the world and instead he died out in the cold snow, beating his fists on the ground and crying like a  _ child _ , hunger gnawing at his belly and skin blistering in the cold. He bled out in the snow, an arrow stuck in his leg and ice creeping in his veins. That child lay there, in ripped clothes with bodies all round him, and was forced to realize he’d  _ failed _ . Justice had been right in front of him and he’d failed to take it, and all it cost him was everyone. 

He’d been so cold the blood felt like it turned to ice in his veins, and he burned from it. Winter had frozen the tears to his face, and the blood was stinging where it pricked like ice picks against his skin. Dimitri was scared, and pathetic, mewling in the snow like the cub he was, hoping for aid that would never come. And all he could hear were his family reminding him that he  _ deserved _ this for being so weak, for letting them die.

‘ _ Because you were weak, _ ’ his father had reminded, ‘ _ All your friends are dead _ .’

Dimitri died with those words. They had been the white hot knife that had ended him more surely than the hunger, or pain, or the northern winter snow. His heart simply gave out and died, shriveled under years of helplessness and regret. That’s when the beast had been born, the raw hunger and stinging resentment burning him to life in Dimitri’s still breathing body.

And now here she was, the woman he let slip away, the one that had never been his to begin with. He was a coward then, making excuses for himself until she died and left his reach forever. And it’s only when she was so out of grasp with not even a body left behind that Dimitri realized how deep and maddeningly his love for her had been. There was nothing left of her but memories that would fade and the bitter taste of heartbreak. A pain that lasted as he fled like a coward to Faerghus, Dedue holding him together by a thread through headaches and loud voices ringing in his ears; right until he lost even that.

He thought he left that behind when Dimitri died, but here she was, bathed in the light like his personal salvation, a second chance to protect her. A second chance to be safe and happy, because she was strong enough to rip through worlds, so perhaps she had survived after all. Perhaps she was really here, standing in that light, all that was worth hoping for in this world of rats and dead faces.

He crushed that bloom of hope before it could fully grow and he lost himself in flights of fancy. She’s gone, everyone is gone, they were lost years ago in battle. He’s the last of them. This was nothing more than another ghost here to remind him of his failures. Her departed spirit unable to rest because he had yet to bring them the head of their murderer, to bring them the closure they desperately needed to move on.

His former professor moved, the light haloing her. She didn’t speak, only held out a hand for him to take.

It’s a trap, a test to see if he’s learned better. He’s a beast, not a man. Things that men want aren’t for him, and he shouldn’t give in to that temptation. Besides, she’d pull away, sneer at him for his failure.

He doesn’t want to see that look on her face too.

“I should have known,” it hurts to speak, and he selfishly wishes his voice wasn’t so rough, “That one day you would come to haunt me too.”

The devastation in her eyes almost seems real.

**Author's Note:**

> Dimitri might or might not need help.


End file.
